


Olympic Tryouts (part 8)

by jennamacaroni



Series: Olympic Tryouts [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennamacaroni/pseuds/jennamacaroni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana and Brittany have been rivals in the college hockey world for the past four years.  now they’re both at Olympic tryouts to play on the same team and Boston and Minnesota just don’t get along, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olympic Tryouts (part 8)

**Author's Note:**

> i may have made up a few words that don’t actually exist. also a little cameo by Lion!Quinn in there for good measure. thanks for reading and enjoy!

Santana gets to the rink an hour before the pregame skate, relishing in the peace of the typically bustling room and settling on the stool in front of her locker. She freezes half way through pulling her sweatshirt off, one arm still stuck and the hood obscuring half of her face when she spots the crisp white jersey hanging in her locker. Up until this point, she had been wearing solid burgundy per her line assignment, but today her sweater is white and there’s a shield of stars and stripes large and stiff fixed to the front and her name on the back. She tosses the sweatshirt over her shoulder and traces two fingers along the stitching affixing each letter to the fabric. U. S. A.

The rush of pride swells and crashes brazenly as she studies each new piece of equipment that hangs tidily in her locker. Sometime overnight the deep maroon pants of her Boston College days were replaced with navy blue, helmet now a stark white and unscuffed with a red and navy number 8 centered on the back side.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” Quinn’s voice jolts her out of her daydreaming as she crosses the room to join Santana by their lockers.

“It’s completely surreal,” Santana concedes, pulling on the brand new pair of gloves and extending her fingers in and out before raising both hands up in front of her face and throwing a few playful boxing punches in Quinn’s general direction. Quinn grins widely and plays along, ducking down and back up in quick dodges.

“Old habits die hard, huh? Still have to be the first one in and last one outta here, Lopez?” teases Quinn, her arm sweeping across the otherwise empty room.

“What can I say, I’m dedicated,” Santana dismisses, pulling the straps taut on her leg pads.

“Yeah, sure, that or you’re trying to avoid a certain roommate slash nemesis.” Quinn cocks one eyebrow suggestively, hand on her hip. “What’s the deal with you two? First you’re at each other’s throats, giving each other wicked shiners and now you’re like the fucking terrific twosome out there.”

Santana feels a quick anger flare for a reason she can’t place, like she needs to hate on Brittany to appease Quinn but wants to fiercely defend her all at once. “I’m playing nice,” she answers simply. “She’s damn good, Q, and we both know it. I guess I’d rather channel my energy from fighting against her to fighting with her. Bygones and all that crap, ya know?” Santana shrugs at Quinn’s narrowed eyes, tugging up her socks and pulling on her skates.

“Plus I think I prefer Beavis and Butthead,” Santana quips. “She’s Butthead.”

Quinn laughs and appears suddenly up in Santana’s face, poking playfully at her forehead. “Snix? Are you in there? Sniiiiiix? Who is this body snatcher and what did you do with the firecracker I know and love?”

“Quit it!” Santana smacks her hand away like a pesky fly. “Don’t stress, Quinnie, I’m sure good ol’ Snix will come out to play when that puck drops in a few hours. These college kids have another thing coming if they think they can keep up with this.”

_____

One by one the players step onto the ice for the pregame skate, joining Santana and Quinn at center ice to stretch.

Santana is actively tuning out loudmouth Rachel Berry who won’t stop babbling on and on about how much she misses some stupid boyfriend back home when her head reflexively looks up to find Brittany making her way down the tunnel towards the ice. She trails her eyes up long legs and meets Brittany’s crystal gaze across the rink. Brittany smirks like she’s got a secret before hopping onto the ice and taking off in a quick burst, skating a long arc around their stretching circle and stopping hard and fast enough to spray a flurry of snow all over Rachel.

“He’s still in… aaaahh!” Rachel guffaws, pulling her hand free of her glove to brush at her uniform dramatically. “Brittany, was that entirely necessary?” Rachel whines like Brittany just pushed the top scoop off her ice cream cone.

“Sorry not sorry,” Brittany retorts, plopping down in between Santana and Mercedes who are both bent over in stitches with laughter.

_____

Coach Taylor meets them on the ice as they’re finishing up stretching.

“Listen up!” he barks, the chatter dying down quickly. “We’ve got our first test here today against CU. Let’s not take them lightly, ladies, they’re fast and have some strong players. We’ll stick with the lines we’ve been practicing with this week, Jones, you’ll be starting in net,” he calls, looking up from his notes and over the frames of his glasses at Mercedes, who nods curtly. “Also be aware that I’ll be making the first round of cuts over the next few days.”

It comes off like an afterthought, but Santana watches the concern flit across the faces around the circle at the thought of being sent home. “Let’s run some breakout drills,” he calls, skating away and blowing the whistle to get the group moving.

_____

Brittany and Santana agree to switch off each shift as to who plays center and takes the face off, both secretly keeping tallies of who wins more for the bragging rights.

_____

From the first puck drop, it’s clear Colorado doesn’t stand a chance. Team USA is faster, stronger and more agile on the ice and easily controls the tempo of the game, maintaining the majority of the puck possession throughout the first period.

Although they have yet to score, they apply relentless pressure attacking the net, peppering the CU goalie with shot after shot. Santana knows it’s only a matter of time before they’re on the board. With the puck on her stick, she blows by a defender by flicking the puck through their skates and slipping around them to pick it up once more, finding Brittany parked in front of the net screening the goalie. She zips a wrist shot on net and although the defender throws a hard shoulder into Brittany knocking her off-balance, she manages to make contact with the shaft of her stick and redirect the puck into the back of the net. Santana meets her mid-fall, wrapping her up and whooping loudly.

When Quinn slams into the pile mid-celebration, she yells “AW YEAH! BEAVIS AND BUTTHEAD AT IT AGAIN BITCHES!” and Brittany has the most priceless dumbfounded look that Santana cackles all the way back to the bench.

“Did Quinn take some crazy pills this morning?” Brittany wonders, sliding into the bench next to Santana and grabbing a water bottle to take a swig.

“What can I say, we’re getting a reputation for being unstoppable,” jokes Santana, bumping her helmet affectionately into Brittany’s.

“But can’t we pick a better tandem? Like Bonnie and Clyde or Lucy and Ethel?”

“It may be too late for that, champ,” laughs Santana, looking back out over the game as Tina intercepts a pass at mid-ice and charges forward, attacking the net before laying a perfect pass for Quinn trailing the play who winds up and blasts a rocket of a slap shot past the flailing goaltender.

Santana can’t help but beam with pride “I taught her everything she knows,” she brags, nodding towards Quinn who glides backwards with both arms thrown high in the air and roaring in exhilarated celebration.

“Yeah okay, whatever you say, Butthead.”

“No way… you’re SO Butthead!” Santana argues, turning back towards Brittany just in time to see her aim the spout of the water bottle through the cage of Santana’s mask and spraying her square in the eye.

“You wish, Lopez,” she eases, smooth as silk.

_____

Mercedes is an absolute beast in net, turning away every shot she faces over two periods. The score is a lopsided 4-0 by the time the third period begins, so Santana and Brittany agree to let Rachel take the opening face off. She loses and they vow to never let her take another again.

_____

Colorado finally gets a break when they catch the US in the middle of a change, the attacker streaking forward towards the net and pitching a shot low and hard. Mercedes moves far out of the goal to cut off the angle of the shot and paddles the puck away easily with her stick. Fresh off the bench and streaking down ice to defend, Brittany picks up the puck against the back boards gathering it quickly and turning up ice.

Santana just manages to haul herself over the boards and onto the ice when Brittany’s pass is already streaking towards her. She collects it mid-stride just before crossing over the blue line, catching the defender puck-watching as she slips in easily behind her, pulling the puck to her backhand and away from the pressure as she finesses towards goal. Although the goalie is cutting across the crease to meet her square on, Santana fakes the move to her forehand enough to move the net-minder but stays with her backhand, paddling a shot up over the goalie’s shoulder into the top netting, sending the water bottle resting on the net skittering across the ice.

She watches the puck sail into the net before cutting to avoid a collision and turning back down ice, gliding on one skate in celebration and throwing up a euphoric punch. Brittany is still way back by their own net, but points at her, then her own butt and her own head. She finishes it off with a loud “nice moves, Butthead!”

Santana prays the nickname does not catch on, but she doesn’t have high hopes.


End file.
